Chapter 36
Chapter thirty-six
Olive
Everything feels…lighter, in a way.
I’d like to say I don’t know why, but I’d be lying to myself, and I’m so tired of pretending.
Avery.
Avery is the reason why.
Against all odds, I’ve found myself in a relationship that doesn’t follow any rules I know.
It’s different, and it scares me a little.
The kind that feels freeing, honest, and without limitations.
But when you add a marriage on top of that, it turns this relationship into something a little more complicated.
To strangers, he and I are in love. We shared vows, committed the ultimate dedication to each other that two people possibly could.
Yet, behind closed doors where the lie is supposed to be set free, it feels trapped in the contract that we both signed.
Because when I’m not with him, I want to be.
And when he’s asleep beside me, I feel this overwhelming sensation in my chest that is so foreign to me, I wouldn’t even be able to place it.
Then I remember who we are, and how we got here, and I feel the need to rein it all back in. Because there is no universe in which Avery Jones feels remotely anything toward me other than lust.
My mom still hasn’t forgiven me for getting hitched without her, but she and my dad have answered my calls and spoken to me like normal.
That’s how I know they’re still mad.
I’ve been telling myself that because they’re too wrapped up in being grandparents while catering to Cassandra and Willow’s every need, but at this point, I’m making excuses for whatever I can to help make me feel a little less guilty, to make it sting a bit less.
It hasn’t worked yet, but it will.
I hope.
The last time I saw Avery, it was for one night.
He cooked for me—awfully, by the way—but it meant more to me than anything.
I haven’t stopped thinking about it.
"Ol, you in there?" Akira calls out from behind my ajar green room door. Her signature knock follows before she opens it all the way. I sit up straighter on my couch, moving my hair away from my face.
"Hey, Akira," I say with a smile, moving closer to the arm of the couch to make some space for her, but she doesn’t sit down.
"We have a day off tomorrow," she tells me, eyebrows wiggling as if I should know where she’s going with the conversation. My brain is too tired to decipher any of it, so I don’t bother. Instead, I wait for her to continue. "Do you have plans?"
Aside from FaceTiming my husband or my niece while she sleeps the whole time? "No, nothing." I shake my head. I do my best to ignore the sinking feeling in my stomach, pushing away the guilt that tries to eat me alive.
Live in the moment, Olive. This won’t last forever.
"Good. You’re all mine." She closes the gap between us, inching closer to me, taking the spot I left open for her. For a second, it almost feels like she’s about to kiss me.
Like she’s going to ask me to give her something I can’t offer her.
But to my absolute relief, she throws herself down onto the couch and rests her head on my shoulder.
"All yours?" I swallow the lump in my throat. It feels like I’m frozen in time, and I can’t find a way to thaw out.
All mine.
"Relax, Olive. Not like that," she replies with a smile. "I know you’re married," she teases me, and I relax a little. "I just hoped we could hang out tomorrow. Unless your new husband won’t appreciate his wife hanging out with a woman she hooked up with once."
"Avery won’t mind at all." I nod, wishing I could fan my burning cheeks.
"You really are committed to him, aren’t you?" She looks up at me, her dark green, curious eyes make my stomach twist in knots. Her gaze falls to my ringless left hand.
"I am," is all I say, while fishing my two rings out of my pocket, sliding them onto my finger.
"I’ve been a part of a PR relationship before, Olive.
I know how they work," she says, opening my door wide, letting in a much-needed breeze to cool down my burning skin. "I just didn’t think you were falling for him, at least, not this quickly. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at nine.
I’ll have our disguises at the ready." She chuckles, slamming the door behind her before I can tell her she’s wrong, and I hear her band play the opening melody to the first song of her set.
If she were still here, I’d force myself to tell her that the only commitment between Avery and me is contractual. That everything we’re doing is all for show. But I think she knows me better than I know myself.
I didn’t lie to her, though.
I am committed to this ‘relationship’, no matter which way it takes us.
***
"How has this tour compared to the last one you came on with me?" Akira asks, probably well aware of the awkwardness I feel as I place a blonde wig over my brown hair and sunglasses that almost cover my entire face.
"Why are you being weird?" I place the glasses on the tip of my nose, watching her over the top of them.
"I really don’t know. I was kidding last night, and I guess I realized it didn’t come off that way. I’ve been freaking out about it all morning, hoping you didn’t hate me for it." She smiles awkwardly, fidgeting with the long, black wig that sits messily on top of her head.
Instead of acknowledging the fact that she spent her morning freaking out over something that didn’t require it, I decide to answer her question instead. "The last tour was in front of like…how many people? One hundred?"
"Three." She corrects me with a smile.
"And it lasted a month." I nod, applying a thin layer of lip gloss, knowing I’ll regret it when a gust of wind hits and a strand of this fake hair gets stuck in it.
"So, yeah. You could say this tour differs slightly.
" I shove my phone, hotel room key, and bank card into my backpack along with my headphones and walk to my front door.
"What plans exactly do you have for us today? "
"Ah, Olive, my small-town girl. Surprises are fun."
Have I mentioned that I hate surprises?
Probably not when it counts.
I take my phone out of my backpack, following behind her, and open my text thread with Avery.
Avery Jones
Probably need to let you know that, aside from a romantic dinner for two, I hate surprises.
Just in case you decide to make a grand, public declaration to surprise your wife for some reason, please don’t.
No surprises. Got it
Having the urge to keep my phone close, I slide it into my back pocket and let Akira lead the way to my day of complete and utter mystery.
***
"So, tell me about him." We’ve been roaming the streets in Montana for the last hour, and I’m internally thanking my past self for choosing to opt for comfortable shoes. It’s almost like I knew the type of day she had planned required a lot of walking.
Akira, however, is probably hating herself for her decision to wear heels rather than sneakers. She knew the stakes and chose wrong anyway.
"Who?" I ask casually, focusing on the windows we pass, looking for something to catch my attention and distract me from whatever is about to come.
"You really going to make me say his name?" She asks, shoveling a tiny scoop of gelato into her mouth, licking her lips after she swallows. "You seem to forget that I had a small role to play in all of this. I was there the night of the auction, remember? I even raised your paddle for you."
"What do you want to know?" I give in.
"Why him and not…"
"You?" I finish the sentence for her, and we stop in the middle of the walkway, passersby grunting when they’re forced to walk around us. "Why him and not you?"
She shakes her head. "No, you idiot. You and I happened months ago, and I knew then it was a one-time thing. But the impression I got was that you weren’t ever looking to date, so I didn’t bother trying to pursue you in that way.
I knew Josie had plans for you and Avery, but when I found out online that you had gotten married—thank you for telling me, by the way—I had this feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Like, sure, I knew it was fake, but on some level, I knew it was different.
And a huge, embarrassing part of me wondered what you saw in him that you never saw in me.
" She loops her arm through mine. "Then I had to remind myself that you had no choice in the matter.
You probably see him the way the rest of the world does. "
I sit with her words longer than I expected to, but they hit me right in the chest.
When I met Akira, she and I hit it off instantly.
But I looked up to her and viewed her more like a colleague and a friend than anything else.
Once the mini tour had finished, we celebrated with her crew and hooked up.
It was a one-time thing, I knew it then, and I know it now.
But I never once told her I was looking for love, or that I ever wanted it.
So, for her to come to that conclusion alone makes me wonder about the type of person I portray myself to be in front of the people closest to me.
"I guess it’s just one of those things, you know?
I never really knew how badly I wanted this career until Josie said the label was willing to take it away from me.
It’s not like I wasn’t given a choice. Hell, it was my idea to fly to Vegas and elope.
He planned with Lizzie and Jenna for them to be there without my knowledge. "
She watches me closely, searching for something—I don’t know what.
But she’s one of the few who knows this isn’t real. And she’s not throwing it in my face or telling me I’m making a mistake.
"Do you see him the same way the rest of the world does?" This time, it’s a question, and not her stating what she thought was a fact.
"He doesn’t treat me the way he treats the rest of the world. He doesn’t even treat the world how they say he does. So, no. I don’t." I sigh when someone accidentally walks into my shoulder, but I keep my attention on Akira.
"How does he treat you?"
Like I’m important, and brave.
Like what I want matters.
Like I matter, singer or not.
"Better than anybody I’ve ever been in a fake marriage with."
That gets a snicker out of her. One that brings a real laugh out of me, too.
Out of everybody close to me, she knows this life. She knows how to manage it, how to live with it.
"So, was your big plan for us to roam the streets in disguises all day before the show starts tonight?" I ask her. She accepts the change of topic with a smile on her face, her green eyes lightening with the sun.
"No," she admits, shaking her head, grin still evident. Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she checks the time, then looks at me. "Okay, now it’s ready. We can go." She pulls a blindfold out of her pocket and uses it to cover my eyes.
"What are you doing?"
She places her hand on my lower back, guiding me toward what I now know is a car sitting idle on the side of the road.
"Do you trust me?"
No.
"Yes." It comes out more like a croak than anything respectable, and she giggles next to my ear.
"I can tell when you’re lying, Olive, but I’ll keep pretending that I can’t to make you feel better."